//------------------------------// // Changes // Story: Marks of Harmony // by Lapis-Lazuli and Stitch //------------------------------// Marks of Harmony Part 20 Twilight had assumed her night would be filled with horrid nightmares of the bloodied world that had become the ruins of Ponyville and fitful moments of startled wakefulness. Thankfully, her sleep was dreamless and undisturbed, whether by Princess Luna’s guiding hoof or her own stark exhaustion she did not know nor care to discover. She had acquired a peaceful night of rest, and for her, that was all that mattered in the end. She would need all of the mental strength she had in the upcoming day. She might know Chrysalis as an individual, but she could not admit to knowing her as a ruler. And while she was sure those were not mutually exclusive, finding the small, subtle places wherein they merged would be a monumental task. Of course, she had her friends and Princess Luna working toward the same goal. They would all have varied perspectives on each exchanged word, but Twilight thought those would be invaluable in the unprecedented negotiation. Thinking of her friends inevitably brought her to dwelling on Rainbow’s new allegiances. Knowing Rainbow, she would be torn between both parties and offering compromise was not usually her strongest trait when it came to argument. Twilight let out a long-winded sigh as she stepped from her tent, situated protectively behind Shining Armor’s own. As a friend, she wanted to help Rainbow as much as she could; but at the same time, she had no desire to be in so trying a position. And I wonder how she’ll fare with all of the tension that’s is definitely going to be in the room? Twilight posed the question to herself. She was so fidgety last night from needing love... I can’t imagine how it will feel to be surrounded by nothing to draw energy from. Inwardly, Twilight was glad Dash had been reluctant to talk about needing to feed off love. It felt awkward just to think about it, let alone actually discuss it. Nemb had, with profuse apology Twilight and the others had insisted was not necessary, rescued all of them from the topic by taking Rainbow off to their separate quarters. All the same, Twilight knew they were going to have to confront the issue eventually—and perhaps sooner than any of them liked—what with it likely going to be a serious topic in the negotiations. She had half made-up her mind to go see Rainbow: even ask to see how she looked when she fed; when her brother strode into the mess of sticks and fabric comprising the newest additions to the encampment. He had been up for some time already judging by the light dusting of ash already coating his armor and softening its clanking, and he was not alone. Alongside him was the doctor whom Princess Celestia had hoof-picked to operate on Inky Jay. Both he and her brother wore grim faces, sending a spike of fear running through Twilight’s chest. He’s not dead, she convinced herself. He’s not dead. “Miss Sparkle,” the physician approached her, “I’d like you to come with me please.” “Why?” she asked, eyes darting to Shining for some answer and finding none. “Did something go wrong with the surgery?” “No, no, no!” the pony exclaimed. “Even if it was the most delicate operation I have ever performed in my whole career, it was a complete success. I just, well actually... it has nothing to do with me. My patient is asking for you.” “Wait... what? Me? Inky Jay wants to see me first, not Aurora?” Twilight asked, perplexed. “That wasn’t his first request no,” Shining replied, his tone touched with irritability. “When they first woke him up... doctor you can explain better since I didn’t get there until later.” “The surgery has left Mr. Jay paralyzed in his hind legs and wingless,” the doctor said plainly, “and he was none too pleased with that outcome, to put it mildly anyway.” Twilight’s eyes switched back to her brother as he said, “Mildly is putting it mildly. From what all the nurses say, he had a complete psychotic episode. He bruised one’s face with one of his hooves and almost broke his dumb neck trying trying to pull himself off the bed.” “And he wouldn’t stop screaming at us,” the doctor added, Twilight’s face becoming a mixture of horror and confusion. “His voice was so distorted by whatever damage is in his vocal chords, we couldn’t understand much, but I think the gist is he would rather be dead than living without legs and wings.” “Took one of my sharpshooters to finally put him to sleep again,” Shining said, and probably said more, but Twilight did not hear. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, and her hooves were in full gallop toward the medical ward. Not many ponies—at least not many refugees—were awake at such an earlier hour, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts and emotions as she pounded along. The feeling of a debt owed certainly accounted for much of her sense of urgency, but there was something less complex in her heart as well. She knew Inky Jay was no friend of hers—or any of Equestria for that matter—but the more she imagined his reaction… Perhaps she was too empathetic, but he was no less a pony for whom he had chosen to align himself. And that being true, Twilight could not bring herself to callously ignore a pony in need of reassurance. She was quite positive he would reject anything she offered him, or outright scorn her for ‘falling’ into concern for those who could not help themselves. But then, she thought, he did ask to see me. Maybe I’m wrong. But regardless of how he acted or what he said, she needed to know what had spurred him to sacrifice himself. It was the ever persistent ‘why’ of survivor’s guilt which Twilight had the rare opportunity to have quenched; and she was not so foolish as to ignore the offer of relief. Beyond the minimal activity about the majority of the camp, the medical wards had an even greater absence of movement. What ponies did appear came from one tent and rapidly vanished into another, usually bearing trays of surgical equipment or vials of medicine. Twilight slowed to to a cautious walk, not wanting to be in the way of any rushing nurses or doctors. Now faced with trying to find the recovery ward without the physician’s guidance, Twilight found her dash to have been quite illogical. As she weighed the decisions of waiting for her brother and the surgeon to catch her or go back to meet them, Twilight caught sight of an exhausted nurse stepping from a tent. She swiped her cap off and ran a tired hoof through her tussled mane, all indications of a long and hard shift over-night. “Excuse me,” Twilight ventured in her most polite tone, “I know you must be tired, but could you do me a quick favor and direct me to the tent where one of the patients is?” “Who is it?” the nurse replied; weary, but not short. “Inky Jay. I was told—” Twilight said, but the nurse cut her off. “We put him in solitary, Miss Sparkle,” she answered, her voice dropping into heavy flatness and her eyes half-lidding in outright dislike of Inky’s name. “It’s the last tent on the right.” “I’m so sorry about him,” Twilight apologized profusely. “I’ll see if I can’t get him more calm.” “Oh, he’s calm already,” the nurse waved a hoof airily as she trod off, “but I almost wish he was still a raging mess.” Twilight’s brows furrowed as she trekked down the seemingly infinite row of tents, but considering who exactly Inky was, she was not surprised the medical staff had become so frustrated with him. Twilight herself could only just stand his presence, and at that, she supposed it was because she had been around him long enough to become mildly desensitized to his social tendencies. She paused upon reaching the final tent, wondering if she should peek in to give Inky time to accept her entrance or merely walk in naturally. She decided upon the latter, if only because she did not wish for Inky’s first words to her to be scathing remarks about politeness. She pulled the flap aside with her magic and walked into the all but bare space. Inky lay on a bed, his head down against his chest and his eyes closed. Judging by his irregular breathing, he was not asleep. A single rag of a sheet covered his hind legs and his entire torso was heavily bandaged. A small blood stain could be seen near his left shoulder. Twilight had expected worse and was glad it was not as severe as she had imagined. She took a silent seat on his right side, not exactly sure what to say or if she should even speak at all. As it happened, Inky spared her the choice. “I had not expected you until later today,” he said, the grate in his voice a touch more prominent than usual. “I deduce by your lack of questions the surgeon took the liberty of describing my current condition?” he asked, his eyes cracking open and his head adjusting slightly to see Twilight. “Did you really punch a nurse?” Twilight could find nothing else to say, though she immediately regretted her question. It was hardly a good way to begin talking with a traumatized pony: no less an eccentric character like Inky. “So they say,” Inky answered with a rattling sigh. He winced and turned his head straight again from some pain. “I… I had a fit of… I am not quite sure what to call it. Denial perhaps would be the best description. I could not, at the time, accept what had happened to me.” “And are you doing better now?” Twilight asked. “It can’t be easy, but…” “It is far too easy, and that is my problem,” Inky replied. “I should not have, nor should I presently feel, any kind of loss. And yet I feel part of who I am has been stripped from me. I cannot help but think that once, I was a pegasus. Without wings, what am I? These are things I know better than to think. I believed myself to have ridden my mind of their hold.” “But, you were… What am I saying? You are a pegasus!” Twilight protested. “You can still walk on clouds, and only pegasi can do that. Naturally anyway.” “The mechanics are not the issue here,” Inky tried a cutting tone, but his voice shook instead. “Lady Aurora professed equality for all ponies. Her goal was to eliminate the superiorities of one breed over another, and I as her follower was to be a vanguard of that mode of thought. I believed myself to be that vanguard. Wings, horn, or neither meant nothing to me. Yet now, here I lie, caught in a never-ending stream of thoughts of my lost wings and paralyzed legs. I despise myself for it, yet cannot escape it. “Did I never truly attain a higher plane of thought? Was my belief rooted not in myself but in Aurora? Or worse, have I fallen? Was my grip of the truth beyond the mundane existence before us only tied to my normalcy? And in that sense, one truly does question whether I even could fall if had not true grasp of truth itself. Either way, I find myself a hypocrite: a pathetic creature more deserving of death than those who wallow in ignorance. “And now as the ultimate blow, death was taken from me. I must now recognize the scum of the earth that I am, and forever live knowing I acted in self-posed lie.” Twilight allowed herself to blink several times, but her eyes, widened from shock, did not return to their normal size. She simply could not believe all that Inky was saying. If nothing else, Inky was confident in both his and Aurora’s beliefs. Within the span of a night, he had somehow lost all of his faith in everything that had defined his thoughts, words, and actions. And rather than accepting some form of error in his previous way of thinking, he instead had turned to self-hatred for appearing to not have followed Aurora’s set tenants. Twilight wanted to offer some sort of comfort for his loss of his wings, but he clearly saw it only as a point of failure on his part. What could she say? He had saved her from lying in the bed in his place. But perhaps that was the point. He had saved her from a physical end, and now she was presented with the opportunity to save him from his own metaphysical death. “You and Aurora are always talking about ideals, you know,” she began, choosing her words carefully and a gentle tone entering her voice. “But an ideal is just that. It’s an ideal. We strive to reach it, but deep down, we understand there are some things that simply aren’t black and white. An ideal isn’t a law, it’s a guide. And I think equality is the same way. Aurora was on the right track, wanting ponies to set aside our differences. But that doesn’t mean we lose our identities as pegasi, or Earth ponies, or unicorns. We just have to learn that we are not better than the others.” “Better…” Inky scoffed in a sort of mutter. “An Earth pony’s strength will always eclipse that of a unicorn. Always. The Devices were designed in part to force those who could not set aside those differences into separating that part of their identities. They were to provide a clearer path: a path I believed myself to be walking without the aid of Devices. My wounds have proven otherwise.” “Even if unicorns aren’t as strong as Earth ponies, we have magic; so it balances out,” Twilight said, her feelings on everything Aurora had said and done bleeding into her words. “Equality isn’t about having everypony literally equal physically and mentally. Uniqueness stops that from coming true. Equality is about not lording a skill or talent over other ponies. It has everything to do with understanding yourself and appreciating the differences of others.” Twilight expected a snappy, slicing remark from Inky Jay about her or the Equestrian populace. Instead he said nothing, turning his head straight again and leaning back against the pad which barely qualified as a pillow. A distant look crossed his eyes as if he was remembering something which weighed heavily on his mind: perhaps even something that had been pivotal in shaping him. “You can talk about anything you know,” Twilight said, her feelings of empathy becoming rather strong. “Princess Celestia always said I was a good listener anyway,” she added, managing a light chuckle. Still he said nothing, instead wincing more audibly as he tried to take a deep breath. But once the stinging sensation had clearly subsided, he spoke, though his eyes did not lose their remembering stare and he continued to look straight ahead.“You speak of equality as an extension of a tolerant world. Perhaps Equestria has that potential now, but it will not last. Do you know where I was born?” “The Land of Red Dunes I would guess,” Twilight answered, curious. “More specifically, a small village called Caedmon,” Inky continued. “It was in a patch of withering grass and wilted trees barely qualifying as an oasis. Such was my life that I was born emaciated, knowing the pain of hunger from birth and coming to be able to ignore as I grew. My parents named me Red Jay after my coat and the fact I was a pegasus. I was treated well by everypony in my home; for I was but one of two pegasi in Caedmon, both of us foals of about the same age. They saw us as potential saviours of the oasis, and I was more than willing to one day take up the duty of trying to herd moisture into a cloud and bring that cloud over Caedmon. I saw it as my destiny and was content with it. Dusty Wind, the other pegasus, found her mark as expected and began helping make our village more liveable than before. But I remained a blank flank with poor flying skills at that. “Then came the day… the day I found my mark. Helping to record on a sandstone tablet Dusty’s first actual storm cloud, a bright light gave me the mark I have today. I was terrified, and ran to my parents hoping they would understand. But my mother never shed a tear as my father dragged me by my mane into the center of Caedmon. He proclaimed my worthless mark to all the village and urged them to the sentence they would have proclaimed against me in time. My own village, those whom I had seen as brothers and sisters, tried to stone me to death. “I half ran, half flew for my life into the endless desert. They did not pursue me far. I was gone and would die soon regardless. I was delirious and walked aimlessly for days. I ate sand and tried pricking my skin to drink my own blood. The desert took me quickly, after how many days I cannot remember. I collapsed into the soft sand and allowed sleep to take me with the full intent of never waking again… But I did, beneath the earth in Aurora Streak’s laboratories. She saved me from death for reasons she still refuses to explain to me, but she taught me that tolerance never lasts; that the shadow of an ideal is too easily betrayed. My own village proved her true.” So that was it. All of his motivation and disdain traced back to a single event. Absolutism was the answer to a world he had seen upset by mere circumstance; the answer to the inconsistency and subtlety so often accepted by others as an inherent part of the universe. It was a straight, narrow, and clear path calling for action over idleness and introspection over experience. And above all, it was potent enough to be capable of being physically enforced. He saw any who rested in contentment as no better than the village of Caedmon. “Inky…” she said, reaching out and resting her hoof on his in comfort. He did not pull away, as Twilight had thought he might, but his eyes did close again. “Inky, have you ever thought that there is a middle ground? I’ve been around you long enough to know you enjoy simply thinking. Have you ever thought of actually using it for yourself rather than just as a way to apply an ideology?” “Ideology requires thought of a greater kind,” Inky replied, though his voice was hollow. “Only once,” Twilight said. “What about greater thought all the time? Finding who you are, who others are, what the world is; can you just allow you to define you?” “I… Who I am…” Inky breathed, his voice taking on a haunting quality. “Do you need some time alone?” she asked, feeling she already knew the answer. “Yes…” was his uncharacteristically simple answer. Twilight nodded, watching him in his stillness for a few brief seconds before patting his hoof and pulling away from the bedside. She glanced back once more before pushing aside the tent flap with a brush of magic, doing her best to try to shift her thoughts to the upcoming negotiating table. ______________________________________________________________________________ Rainbow woke at her usual time right on the minute. A wry smile cracked her lips. It was in the little things that she could hold onto who she really was, even if she did look completely different. But just as quickly as she was given such an encouraging sign, one of the opposite effect beset her. Just trying to roll over off of her cot elicited screams of protest from her muscles. She groaned audibly, rotating all of her joints over and over to work out the stiffness. As an athlete, she had encountered similar morning strain after a particularly strenuous workout, but this was by far worse. That was not to say she had not been expecting some soreness. As she had sat and soaked in love (with what she now believed to have been a ridiculously stupid grin on her face), Nemb had mentioned the strain on her body of absorbing love, converting it into energy, and storing it. Or at least, that had been the gist Rainbow had gotten from him. She was sure he had gone into the medical specifics along the way, but in the bliss of having her desire sated, she had blocked out quite a bit of the rest of the world. But as she struggled to stretch her new, light-refracting membranous wings, she found a frown forming on her lips. She had consumed love, of that much she was certain; but the trouble was the exact how of it. Even through the haziness that had been her feeding trance, she was positive Nemb had never given her any advice. Of course, being a Changeling now, it was possible that it was simple instinct ingrained in her altered psyche. Something like how nopony had to teach foals how to drink or eat. But for Rainbow, it seemed too basic: especially considering Changelings could also consume normal food. Moving her joints a couple more times, she rolled off her cot; intent upon waking Nemb and asking the questions she felt had come far too early in the morning. Only, when she tapped the hammock above her resting place, it swung without the distinct weight of an occupant. Clambering up on a small lampstand while muttering grumpily about needing to learn how to use her new wings, Rainbow confirmed that Nemb was indeed gone. She had begun backing down when a frank voice penetrated the early morning silence, nearly making her fall. “I’d really rather not know what the appeal of my bed things is to you,” he said with a sigh. “What!? No!” Rainbow shouted in her defense. “I was just looking for you. I’ve got some questions.” “I’d thought you might, after what you did last night anyway,” Nemb replied. “Wait, you say that like it’s a bad thing,” Rainbow said apprehensively, several unpleasant thoughts involving fangs racing through her head. “Ehhhh…” Nemb shrugged. “It isn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t good either. Let’s hear your questions. Maybe you’ll mention something and we can go from there.” “Um… I’m really, really, really sore,” Rainbow started. “I mean, I heard ya about that happening, but this is ridiculous,” Rainbow said, trying to suppress the disapproving tone in her voice. “Oh good,” Nemb replied, nearly smiling. “Well, you are right after a manner of speaking. It’s worse this go ‘round because you didn’t show any… ah, restraint I suppose would be the best way to put it.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rainbow asked, plopping on the earthen floor of their tent when Nemb came and sat beside her. “Any Changeling knows how to feed on love instinctively. It’s part of who we are, for better or worse,” Nemb explained. “But as we grow up, our parents teach us how to feed properly. You might compare it to the way a foal eats its meals and way a grown pony does. Both definitely get the job done, but… well, you see the point.” “You’re telling me I fed like a sloppy baby?” Rainbow said flatly. “Blunt, but not inaccurate,” Nemb answered, offering an apologetic tone. “I didn’t try to stop you last night since you were too hungry to have managed anything, but those are lessons we absolutely must go over. To be completely honest, I felt the way you did it, and I am surprised you didn’t actually pull a muscle. I’ve had to treat that before in the stupid adolescents, and it is not pleasant.” For the briefest moment, Rainbow felt her pride being struck at from all sides. She was not an expert in everything, but if she was not spectacular in in something, she was still not terrible at it either. But as her reactionist self called for her come to her own defense, a single, more poignant thought poked through. “I didn’t hurt anypony did I? I mean, I don’t know how it works or anything, but I didn’t like ya know… suck somepony dry did I?” “It’s a valid concern, and in less congested place… yes you could have,” Nemb replied, tilting his head back and forth. “But luckily, with so many ponies around us, you were jumping from source to source faster than any other Changeling I have ever felt. I doubt they ever even noticed.” And with that, Rainbow’s fears were allayed and her confidence rose several notches. Faster. In. Everything. was her thought, a smug smile accompanying it. “Ha! You may think it’s a good thing now,” Nemb admonished her, a slight grin of his own creeping between his fangs, “but what happens when there aren’t so many hosts to choose from? I will teach you, but you must learn to pace yourself and learn how long you can latch onto a host.” “It sounds creepy and weird when you say it like that,” Rainbow said, her brows furrowing. “Well, I’m certainly not going to sugarcoat it for you. Those are the proper magical terms for feeding,” Nemb said dryly. “Now, before we go, I want to make sure you are actually full. You, well… you passed out after you were finished last night. I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes. Concentrate on your breathing.” “Easy,” Rainbow replied, thinking of her athletic training sessions. Controlled breathing was as much a part of exercise as the actual activity. “Good, now fan your wings like you would when feeding,” Nemb continued. Rainbow did as instructed, her wings actually fluttering at the slow, tight motion she was attempting. “Careful,” Nemb’s voice said. “You move too quickly and you’ll start feeding and hurt yourself if you’re full.” Rainbow nodded, and put extra caution into keeping her wings perfectly still. “Okay… now the last bit is going to be a tad tricky. You didn’t really know what you were doing last night, so it’s not so easy for me to explain how you go about managing it,” Nemb said, more to himself than Rainbow. “Can you focus on the hunger you were feeling? That might be a good place to start.” Rainbow wordlessly searched her memories, going back to initially becoming aware of her hunger: when she and her friends had finally been able to meet with Princess Celestia together. “I can remember it, but that’s about it,” Rainbow said. “Is there supposed to be something else?” “It’s unique to each Changeling,” Nemb sighed. “Some only have to think about being hungry to know if they are full, some don’t even need that, others are repulsed by the idea of feeding if they’re full, while I’ve even had patients—” “Could you hold up a sec, doc?” Rainbow asked, feeling a shiver pass through her body as she opened her eyes and folded her wings down. Nemb paused, mouth half-open in speech, but obliged her with an encouraging smile. “ ‘Repulsed’ sounds like something Twilight or Rarity would say… but… it sure as hay feels weird to think about feeding.” “Well, there are always levels of feeling if that’s your reaction,” Nemb seemed to ponder, Rainbow becoming increasingly aware of his tendency to tilt his head when in thought. “I don’t want to say for certain you’ve found your thermometer, so to speak, but you seem to be sure. If we don’t do a thorough check now, you know you will have to control yourself if you begin to get hungry before we break.” “I get it,” Rainbow replied. “I’ll be chill about it, doc. I probably should let you know though, right?” “Definitely,” Nemb said firmly. “I can let our Queen know, and she can find a clever way to request a respite. She wasn’t exactly pleased to hear your first feeding was without guidance. She understood, mind, but if I let it happen again… well, we will make sure it doesn’t.” “Deal,” Rainbow said, offering a hoof-bump to Nemb, who only stared at it in an oddly perplexed fashion. “Wait, Changelings don’t do hoof-bumps?” she asked, the very idea seeming bizarre to her. Even griffons, which didn’t even have hooves in the first place, did hoof-bumps. “Oh…” Nemb started, then chortled in amusement. “I suppose I will have to get used to these pony customs now that you’re around. Call us old-fashioned, but Changelings cross horns twice to seal a promise.” “That’s… intimate,” Rainbow stated flatly, unable to find a more neutral word to describe her impression. “Only if you think about it that way,” Nemb replied, now with a genuine laugh. “But come on. We have royalty of two nations to attend.” “Woah, isn’t it early?” Rainbow asked, rubbing her eyes in the sunlight Nemb let inside the tent as he held the flap open for her. “Aren’t there, like, preparations for this kind of stuff?” “In peacetime of course,” Nemb said, he and Rainbow trotting out into what would become the camp’s thoroughfare as the day wore on, “but in light of what has happened… well, that and Princess Luna and Her Highness were up most of last night ironing out a good deal of the details. I was mostly an errand colt between them.” “And you’re not tired?” Rainbow gawked. “As a physician, I’m used to being up at un-Faustian hours of the night,” Nemb replied. “And Changelings don’t have set sleep times. Rest for us is more for enjoyment than anything else.” “I can get on board with that,” Rainbow grinned. “Naps in a nice tree on a warm summer day are the best.” “I prefer water lines in spring, personally,” Nemb added. From that, their conversation became a swap of favorites of this and that and comparisons between ponies and Changelings. Rainbow was more than thrilled to learn that while Chrysalis’s court did possess a professional acrobatics regiment, underground teams were quite popular as well and always on the lookout for new members. Nemb was highly intrigued by the sheer diversity of pony food, and Rainbow found herself eager to take him to have this delicacy and that desert. As they neared her friends’ tents, (and with Nemb having becoming less talkative with the impending meeting with Princess Luna) Rainbow idly wondered why he was so unlike most doctors, who in her experience were usually stuffy and unhelpfully reprimanding. And even more amazing, he was not typical of a royal court. Part of it, Rainbow had to admit to herself, was due likely in large part to her Queen’s method of rule; but beyond that, Rainbow could not shake the feeling he was from a less esteemed background like her. From that came the ease of talking with him, which Rainbow had never encountered in her many stays in Ponyville’s hospital; and even more distinctly, Dash counted him as a friend. Her musings were interrupted by none other than the energetic morning greeting of Pinkie Pie, which involved a large hug and shouting ‘Good Morning, Dashie!’ at the top of her lungs. Similar but more calm, good mornings followed from her other friends save Twilight, who was curiously absent from their small gathering. “So, where’s Twi?” Rainbow asked Applejack. “She still sleepin’ in, or was she up all night again like the doc?” “Nah, she got some decent shut eye I reckon,” AJ replied. “ ‘Er brother came ‘round when we was eatin’ those little army breakfasts an’ said she’d gone someplace early an’ would be meetin’ us all with Princess Luna.” “So Captain Armor told everyling how this is to proceed I’m hoping?” Nemb asked, though it was clear he already suspected the answer. “He did,” Fluttershy replied, “though, if I can just offer my opinion here, he didn’t seem very happy.” “Well of course he would not be overly fond of the idea,” Rarity offered. “After all, finding skillful and trustworthy guards cannot have been easy: especially after the battle.” “We haven’t had any problems with anypony,” Dash quipped. “It’s not the soldiers we hafta be worryin’ ‘bout Rainbow,” Applejack answered. “I’d bet my best buck tha’ tha Princess’s made sure ta tell all tha officers and stuff. A lot of ‘em ain’t happy ‘bout it, and that’s tha issue.” “Can’t have all the normal ponies getting all crazy,” Pinkie said. “Come to think of it, they’ll all go crazy anyway! But that’s why Twilight’s brother has one doozy of a headache.” “Sorting out which soldiers would merely, well… stand aside,” Nemb finished. “Shame that.” “Depressing is more like it,” Rainbow said. “But nopony else really knows Chrissy except us,” Pinkie said pointedly. “It’s sad, but you can’t really blame anypony. I think I’d be scared too.” “Well, if you all are ready, we can head out,” Nemb said. “Judging by the sun’s position, Her Highness’s entourage will be here within the next five minutes.” “We should hurry then,” Rarity replied, immediately taking the lead. “Can’t afford to make a bad impression with so much at stake.” They began in a light trot in the early morning sun, the dew droplets just beginning to steam away and leave behind only the building unpleasant odor of an entrenched military camp. At first, Dash paid little attention to the infrequent stirrings of soldiers they passed; but within seconds of the short trek, she could not see past a single row of tents so thick was the churning mass of the Equestrian military machine. Where only moments before she could hear the birds slowly returning to the ruins of Ponyville, now Dash’s senses were assaulted by shouting officers, the crunch of gravel underhoof, the almost musical rattle of armor, the smell of salt, and the unfortunate taste of dust kicked up in the wake of hundreds of organizing hooves. But where the soldiers lacked courtesy for the ponies they would invariably be protecting throughout the negotiations, they more than made up for in speed and efficiency. Upon arriving in the middle of the road outside Ponyville by which the camp had been split between Sun and Moon, every Equestrian lancer, war flier, engineer, war mage, and guard had taken his stalwart position either lining the road or in an intimidating column behind Princess Luna, Twilight, and Spearhead. The commotion had drawn a number of refugees, but Shining Armor had apparently chosen well, for the iron faces of the ponies along the street mirrored their refusal to let any pony pass. Impressive a display although it was, the somber weight in the atmosphere kept all silent and even held Rainbow’s mouth straight as she and Nemb took their places with Princess Luna. Silence descended over the Armies of the Sun and Moon, punctuated only by the wind whipping about flags and loose tents. Even what few foals had been brought to the edges by their mothers somehow remained quiet. The eerie quiet reigned for several long minutes until Rainbow felt Chrysalis approaching. Now close enough to them, Chrysalis was reaching out to her and Nemb, confirming they were safe and nothing disastrous had occurred. It was a mixed touch, both motherly and authoritarian, but caring throughout. And with Chrysalis’s contact, Rainbow’s telepathy leapt to prominence; she unintentionally tapping each of the Changelings with Chrysalis before reigning in the still alien sense. She glanced apologetically to Nemb, who she was sure had noticed, and let slip a sheepish grin in response to his half-rolled eyes. At least it was not so serious as Rainbow had imagined. But any further thoughts on the subject were rendered temporarily irrelevant as Chrysalis and her chosen accompaniment came within the borders of the camp. A muffled officer’s voice bellowed out some command, and in response every Equestrian soldier came to sharp attention, the lancers lowering their weapons into an arch for the Changeling party. Chrysalis strode at the center of the entourage, the Changelings immediately surrounding her foregoing the official military appearance for their natural mane, tail, and eye colors. But the rest were not only almost blankly identical; their eye-shields were lowered and they bore the glistening navy Battleguard armor. Though with her included Chrysalis’s party numbered only just above two dozen, they were clearly her best. And it was with Equestrian and Changeling displays of power facing down one another that Chrysalis came directly to Princess Luna and spoke with royal flair, “So, where are we to establish the future of our two kinds?” “Follow us, and thou shalt see,” was Luna’s equally elegant reply before they turned in single file for the single largest tent on the Moon’s side of the camp. _____________________________________________________________________________ Thunderlane watched the procession like everypony else displaced in the battle. His blood ran full with a mixture of fear, loathing, betrayal, and bewilderment. True, Lady Aurora had used them to her own ends, but in that very thought lay the difference to what he saw at present. They were a lesser race both unconcerned with and incapable of Ascension. They consumed the life-blood of family and deceived enemy and ally alike. If any creature deserved a position of servitude, Changelings were well placed to fill the role. And Lady Aurora had taken advantage of that to protect herself. But this… official negotiation… acknowledged Changelings as not only potential friends to Equestria, but as equals to ponies at large. Now herein had two crimes been committed by his former Princesses. A lack of proper judgement and acceptance on the part of Celestia, and now a lapse of dignity from Luna. Whatever hope Thunderlane had held of Equestria’s future as subtly guided by Luna’s hoof vanished. He desperately wished to turn away as he heard the foul leader of the Changeling Hive greet Luna and the Night Princess do likewise, but he restrained himself. Departing before everypony else would only draw attention, and as things stood so delicately in the balance, he could not afford to take such emotionally fueled chances. Instead, he studied the reactions of all of his fellow ponies. There was rightful disgust on many faces, as Thunderlane had allowed to come over his own, but by far the majority were merely shell-shocked. Wide eyes and half-open mouths said more than words ever could; indeed, they were even clearer in meaning than the scowls and angled brows of the furious. The procession ended as Luna, Twilight Sparkle and her friends, and the abominations entered what Thunderlane postulated was Luna’s private quarters. It was not long before the murmurs began, then evolved into loud arguments, and before long had exploded into crowd-wide shouting. It was nothing but a pile of emotions given a voice, and a headache-inducing voice at that. Thunderlane lingered in his place for a moment longer, just to be sure no riots would break out. But it appeared the presence of so many Equestrian soldiers in rank and file was quelling any more violent protest, and Thunderlane took it as his opportunity to squeeze his way between this pony, jump around that foal, and slither between couples. As Thunderlane backtracked in quite the zig-zag pattern and with none too few ‘Excuse me’s and ‘Behind’s, he became conscious of several more ponies following his movements. Under normal circumstances, Thunderlane would have cast them commanding glares until they ceased moving in his direction; but even in the thinning crowds, a group of ponies walking and talking would hardly be suspicious. Even after everypony dispersed back into the refugee areas, it would hardly be unlikely anypony would be alone in their conversations. “This can’t be good,” the unicorn mare to his right said once they were close enough. Thunderlane searched his memories, and found that although he could not recall her name, he remembered her cutie mark of a stitching needle passing through a thin sheet of silk. “There won’t be a march now, will there?” another mare next to her asked. Thunderlane knew her to be Honey. “I doubt it. And it’s a right disgrace and disrespectful of ‘em,” an Earth pony stallion on Thunderlane’s left replied. “They might go ahead with it and just save it until after whatever political bull crap they pull,” a third mare—much younger than the rest—answered with her head turned back to see her companions. "Listen,” Thunderlane spoke out, using a lighter version of the tone his father had always used to grab his attention, “no matter what they decide, march or not, we can’t wait any longer. We have to move the schedule up, even if the Lady isn’t ready.” “Why?” the young mare, now revealed to be a pegasus from her anger flared wings. “It’s going to be twice as hard with Changelings scampering like roaches all over the place.” “Keep your voice down little filly,” the other stallion hissed at her. “Because if the, ‘political bull crap’ as you put it, goes through, Changelings aren’t just going to be hangin’ around. They’ll probably become part of the Lady’s detail, if anything,” Thunderlane elaborated. “We wait for that to happen, and instead of random resistance, we’ll face two organized armies whose only purpose is to keep her locked up. You like those odds, ‘cause I don’t.” “No…” the mare glowered. “That’s what I thought,” Thunderlane said pointedly, then turning to the others, continued, “We can’t wait much longer. We can give the negotiation time to settle in, get over nerves and bias and all that garbage, but that will only take two, maybe two and a half hours, with Luna at the helm. The antiquated way she acts’ll keep the awkwardness down by drawing all of it to herself.” “You have an idea here then I’m guessin’ ?” Honey asked. “All of you go… Round up everypony who has the guts to act in a couple hours’ time,” Thunderlane answered. “They’ll be the only one’s worth bringing anyway. Go.” “And what about you?” the youngest questioned severely. “Wanting some time to actually consider your decisions?” “No,” Thunderlane bit back, perturbed. “I’m more sure of this than ever. What I’m going to do is boring but important, so it’s only need-to-know, which to be frank, you don’t.” “Just follow the plan,” Honey suggested, not harshly but definitively stern. “Thunderlane’ll let us know if anything has to change.” “I will,” he said. “Now scoot! We have very little time.” Thunderlane kept his tempered pace as one by one, the ponies about him took side-routes through the maze of tents. The firey young mare was the last to leave, intent upon discovering Thunderlane’s intentions; but the patience he had been practicing since his change of loyalty won out, and she too cut away into apparent oblivion. Once sure she was well away, Thunderlane himself diverged from the main path. He had not been lying to them: his task might easily have been relegated to some competent runner. But, in the spirit of the equality Lady Aurora envisioned, Thunderlane was determined to avoid using those with lesser status wherever possible. His path through the encampment was simple: just off the predictable routes, but not so far flung as to be considered the outlying pathways. In Thunderlane’s mind, it was a vital element of their plan that these paths out of the camp and into the Everfree Forest remain clear. Now with Changelings openly invited within the borders of the refuge, he feared patrols might have been increased. If such were true, it was not crippling; but knowing if and where guards made their rounds would make evading or subduing them that much easier. As it so happened however, as he plodded along, Thunderlane saw neither actual guard activity nor any sign of a recent presence. His concerns were further allayed when, upon arriving at the camp’s boundary, the patrols had, if anything, decreased. From his hunched position behind a water barrel, Thunderlane counted at least ten minutes of a blind spot in the patrol pattern. That was nearly triple his last count. It was almost as if the world wanted Aurora free and was providing the right answers to all of his questions. Not that I’m going to be an idiot and spit on fate, Thunderlane thought as he turned back for the more densely occupied refugee areas, but why does it look too good to be true? ______________________________________________________________________________ “So, how are things?” Nemb hissed to Captain Hept as first Princess Luna, then his own Queen Chrysalis took positions opposite one another. Hept chose to hold his reply, which irritated Nemb only just so. The two rulers nodded to one another in respect before taking seats on navy, velvet cushions; of which many more surrounded an elegant round table of wood made semi-transparent by magic. It glittered like the night sky in many places, which Nemb supposed was intentional. Once it was clear the sovereigns were comfortable, everyling else took his or her seat: with Miss Dash’s pony friends taking positions on either side of Princess Luna and Her Highness’s closer advisors surrounding his Queen. Nemb himself took a place next to Miss Dash, who had, at least in his opinion, taken quite a poignant seat near the middle of the two sides. Hept situated himself on Nemb’s other side, his warrior’s eyes passing over each of the ponies with practiced scrutiny. “Everything is calm,” Hept replied low as he leaned back. “Bringing the princess back helped more than I thought it would.” “You will refuse to say—” Nemb was sputtering, but was cut off with the empowered control in Princess Luna’s voice. “It has been a good many eons since we hath taken part in both so monumental an occasion and so delicate a discussion,” Luna began, “and as much as we wish to bring our ancient knowledge of treaty into usefulness, we hath found it unnecessary at this juncture.” The momentary lack of voice in the air was filled by the furious scratching of quills as Twilight Sparkle acted as scribe for Princess Luna and the Queen’s own record keeper wrote out the words in the Changeling alphabet. “Explain why,” his Queen answered, the traditional bite she normally possessed restrained, though not without considerable effort. “The Changeling Hives do not make treaties, even with each other. We know nothing of this process, so how is your knowledge not useful?” “Please, Chrysalis, together we and thee plotted the release of two populations and when those plans of ours failed, together we invaded a flying fortress and fought against powers alien to both of us,” Luna said, nodding her head forward. “We believe we canst come to a compromise more quickly and more honestly without the formality of tradition.” “And it’s not really our tradition anyway,” Miss Dash spoke up, earning the nods of several of Nemb’s fellows. From those who remained static, Nemb determined agreement in their eyes, but they were still too wary of Miss Dash to openly accept her as one of their own. Nemb found it a rather ridiculous notion, but he postulated that his confidence came from his more scientific approach to her new physiology. But in truth, his Queen’s reaction was paramount, and Her Highness eyed Miss Dash with a small, but approving, nod. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, dropping any silk she was capable of layering over her voice. “I came to see justice done and injustice prevented.” “Thou believeth we ought to center our negotiation upon Aurora Streak’s trial and judgement?” Luna queried. “That beast, for better or worse, brought us together,” Chrysalis said. “I think it’s fitting to build an alliance out of that.” “Perhaps a better solution would be to build it from our very interaction,” Luna suggested. “We canst not deny that Aurora wilt be a stipulation, and we art willing to accommodate you to a degree in that regard, but it seemeth foolish to build an agreement of protagonism between our kingdoms upon the hoof-stool of an antagonism.” “I don’t see the foolishness there,” Chrysalis countered. “She showed we had strength together rather than apart.” “In war time, yes, but such is always the case amongst nations,” Luna replied. “Might we make our framework proposal, then we canst go into serious debate.” “Go on,” Chrysalis said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. Nemb was personally enthralled. The level of debate before him was not often seen in Changeling politics as his Queen was far more an active leader than had been her predecessor. Despite the Princess’s call for informality and more honest conversation, Nemb’s ears were flooded with subtext. Both Her Highness and the princess were attempting to assert their propositions as optimal while simultaneously offering some form of deference to keep the dialogue flowing. It was fascinating, and Nemb wished that something other than ink could record the moment. So immersed was he in the multi-faceted nature of his surroundings, that he jumped when Princess Luna pointed a firm hoof in his direction, saying, “We believe Rainbow Dash wilt offer much more to our unity than Aurora. It is through her, and her growing understanding of both our cultures, that we propose we begin to construct a treaty.” Nemb shook off his surge of nervous adrenaline and leaned forward to better see the reaction of his patient’s face. To his rather prideful satisfaction, a determined smile and slanted brows adorned her face. “I’m ready to do it,” she said. “Hay, I want to do it. There’s no reason we can’t get along if we don’t just practice at it. Sure, it’ll be hard at first, but no matter what you do, it’s always hard in the beginning.” “If I might say somethin’, Princess?” Applejack looked to Luna for permission. “Of course,” she answered with a nod and smile. “I know it don’ look good ou’ thar,” Applejack said. “I know what it looked like before it was all gone. But, if we can all survive tha’, there ain’t no reason we can’t learn ta work together.” “If I could interject?” Nemb decided to speak at the moment. Receiving no resistance, he continued, “Your Highness, I happen to agree with the princess’s proposal. Having been assigned to look over Miss Dash as she learns exactly what it means to be a Changeling, I can assure you that not only is she a quick and eager learner, but I have begun to reconsider what I believe to be central aspects of our kind.” “I am opening my ears to what my other advisors have to say,” his Queen answered, glancing about at each of the Changelings on both sides. “I am not ready to blindly follow you, Princess Luna, but this entire conflict has taught me the value of the opinions of others. What say you, my Children?” “You are generous, Your Highness,” one of the Changelings said, bowing. “I was always generous,” she snapped, then more calmly said, “I have just changed my mind about who I give it to.” “I think I speak for all of us when I say we side with you, Your Highness,” a second Changeling said. The others offered comfortable nods, and before Nemb could offer more evidence to defend his point, Hept rose to his hooves quite suddenly, drawing the dangerous attention of Luna’s thestral guard. His glare settled on them until he was sure they understood he meant no harm to the princess, before it turned more fiercely upon Her Higness’s advisors. “You incompetent, motherbucking suck-ups!” he roared at them, which garnered equal amounts of shock and tension from all present. “You all sit there, hearing but not listening and caring only about keeping your place on Her Highness’s council! Has it ever crossed your rat-sized brains that she never wanted your advice because you never gave her any! Get out, get OUT!” he continued to bellow, forcibly smacking and shoving the Changelings until the last of their hisses and whimpers had faded. He breathed a small sigh before turning back to his seat and addressing the Queen, “I refuse to apologize. The air is already fresher, so that is good enough justification for me.” “I wouldn’t have asked for one,” Her Highness replied, a fanged grin crossing her lips for a moment. “It’s safe to say you agree with Princess Luna then as well.” “I agree with both of you actually,” Hept answered flatly. “Your Highness, as your Captain, I believe strongly that that abomination must be dealt with first. But if we do that, what do have after? Treaty gets built on a problem… problem is solved immediately afterward… What do we have then?” “Luna,” Nemb’s Queen said, her eyes lingering on the still standing Hept for a moment, “if I accept and we begin our road to an alliance through working with Rainbow Dash to unite us, then I will not go any further until my demands on Aurora Streak’s sentence are met.” The princess hesitated at the proposition, likely from having already formed some idea of how she and her sister were to punish Streak. “Elements? General? Thy impression? Thy opinion?” “I… I just want to get it out of the way,” Fluttershy said. “We were goin’ ta work with ‘em anyways right?” Appljack replied with an arched brow. “I don’ see why they can’ ‘ave the firs say.” “It makes sense legally,” Twilight said, though her voice carried an absent note to it as she finished recording on the the scroll. “They suffered first, so they should be allowed to dictate the terms of consequence first.” “I agree with Twilight, and see no issue with giving our guests first choice in the matter,” Rarity offered. “It is a courtesy, in a manner of speaking.” “Personally, I’ll object to any proposed punishment if I don’t think it’s harsh enough,” Luna’s general grunted. “Pinkie Pie, thou hast been oddly quiet through all of this,” Luna added. “We already have our course of action set before us, but we still wish to hear thy take.” “Well, I don’t really care either way,” Pinkie said brightly, and pulling a startled Fluttershy into a one-legged hug, added, “like Fluttershy here. I really just wanna get this thing movin’ so I can figure out how to set up a Lurrrvvve Eatery.” While Nemb flushed at the less than subtle implication, Miss Dash burst into raucous laughter, pointing her hoof at Pinkie Pie and falling onto her back. “Pinkie! That was… not appropriate!” Rarity reprimanded her, though she was blushing as well. Any impact of seriousness in Rarity’s tone was destroyed as Miss Dash rolled in a second bout of hysterics, this time, none other than Her Highness adding her own giggles to the torrent. Most everypony else lost their composure then, even the guards allowing their steely facades to fall and guffawing merrily at the bawdy joke. And while it was with reluctance their joviality ended, Princess Luna’s call for informality and honesty was surely to be more easily met. _____________________________________________________________________________ A smile crossed the lips of Verdance as he listened to the negotiative banter through the ears of Luna’s guards. The sun glinted faintly off the magi-plane enclosing The Origin’s cockpit, and Verdance allowed his mind to wander into the past and imagine what glorious future was to be before a full Sentinel of Arbiters. … Aurora Streak was in a state of contemplation over what rumors had traveled through the mouths of Celestia’s soldiers, watching the shadows just outside her cell travel with the movement of the sun and clouds. Her attention was abruptly snapped away from her preferred ethereality as said guards outside let loose strangled cries of warning. Her eyes shifted from side to side and she almost stood, preparing for the inevitable desperate assassin. … “Wouldn’t it be a better idea to have a joint team of Changeling and pony engineers looking at the ship?” Twilight interjected herself into the fierce discussion around her. “It might take more time, but granting exclusive rights really isn’t in the spirit of cooperation.” She went back to scribbling madly over her seventh scroll, and as she did so, an odd tingling sensation traveled down the back of her neck. … “... so when you did not check in, I started to assume the worst,” Sanctia’s musical voice echoed within the confines of The Origin’s conference room. “You know better, sister,” Verdance replied. “Had you heard from me, the worst would have already taken place. Everything is fine here, even if it is not proceeding at the pace I would like.” … Another of Aurora’s guards rattled against the bars of her cell while blood leaked from the helmet on his concussed skull. A magically levitated beam of wood beat him into complete unconsciousness, and in his place a young lavender unicorn mare stood. “Morning Lady Aurora,” she said, bright but deferential. “I’m Sparkler. Let’s see about getting you out of there,” she continued, as the other ponies enlightened by her proclamations gathered more closely to the bars. … “We think it wouldst be an apt time to take a brief respite,” Luna said, much to Twilight’s own relief. “And when convene again shortly, we shalt begin our approach to integration.” “Agreed,” Chrysalis answered, the iron in her voice from the ceaseless debate remaining. With a final dot of a period, Twilight moved the seventh scroll onto the pile of others, preparing to levitate them to a safer place. Hammering out a compromise over Aurora had taken longer than Twilight had imagined would be necessary, but both Chrysalis and Luna had brought up crucial points that that had never occurred to her. … “And you might want to warn Axiomos,” Verdance said. “From what I have heard, the negotiations with Chrysalis are going rather well. But there is no telling how the other Hives will react. He should keep his eye on them.” “Anything else you want to give me to pass along,” Sanctia drawled, which was quite odd the sound coming through her melodic tone. “Not particularly,” Verdance answered. “But I will be coming to you once I have Streak. Two Arbiters will be better suited to bringing her into the Sentinel than one.” “And your personality is not exactly endearing or encouraging,” Sanctia added, to the murmured chuckle of Verdance. ... “And pulse one more time!” Sparkler ordered the impressive assembly of unicorns. Groans and heaves followed her command, but a cohesive bead in the magic beam aimed at Aurora’s cell bars formed and slammed into the arcane-laced barrier. The ponies held a collective breath, watching and waiting for the barrier to fade; and cheering one another in covert ways when the glow faded from the bars. “Hurry! This way Milady,” Thunderlane said, separating himself from the crowd as Sparkler levitated the physical keys from the corpse of a guard and clicked away the locks. Aurora offered only a nod in response as she stepped into the bright sunlight again. … “I can’t say it really tastes like anything,” Rainbow was saying to her intrigued friends just outside Princess Luna’s tent. “You don’t actually eat it if you know what I mean.” Twilight was about to agree, her mouth half open with a ready explanation of the scientific impossibility of love having any kind of taste, when the same dangerous tingle traveled up her neck. It was more potent this time and definitively not a mere breeze. Something was very wrong. “Something the matter, Twilight?” Rarity asked. … “And the dragons have once again decided to start hunting Diamond Dog,” Sanctia sighed irritably. “The stench when they get roasted is nearly unbearable and even comes through my shields.” “They will stop eventually when gems stop finding their way to the surface,” Verdance replied absently. “And let us be honest with one another, being forced to smell burning Diamond Dog hide is far better than tracking—!” A distinct red glow flashed on and off all throughout The Origin’s interior accompanied by a single siren blast. “She’s picked up a magical power spike somewhere!” Sanctia reiterated what Verdance already knew. “I know! I know!” he growled out, leaving the conference room for the cockpit, the pulsing lights glinting off his narrowed pupils. … “Half of you are to dislodge and discard overboard any loose material while the other half are to descend to the lower decks and reassemble our propulsion system!” Aurora barked out the orders as her considerable following scrambled into the House of a Thousand Fangs through its many wounds. “Thunderlane, Sparkler, both of you shall accompany me to my command.” “Lady Aurora,” they both inclined their heads, setting off at her flanks. Already, Aurora had activated her bracelets and was searching through the various portions of her ship, assessing the damage. As it stood, the channels for flight control were undamaged and merely without power; but nearly every other system had taken damage too severe to even consider attempting activation. “Sparkler, we will be pursued. Make no mistake,” Aurora said. “I entrust to you the protection of this vessel until we gain the necessary velocity.” … “Don’t you feel it?” Twilight asked Rarity. “There’s just something off. It’s just a feeling, I know, but I can’t shake it.” “Don’t tell me yar gettin’ cold hooves now Twi,” Applejack replied with a disappointed frown. “No no no!” Twilight implored. “It has nothing to do the talks. They’re going great if history has anything to say about it. It’s something elsewhere. Gah! I can’t put my hoof on it!” “It’s not the creepy McCreeperson Princess Luna told us not to worry about is it?” Pinkie asked, genuinely concerned. “No…” Twilight trailed off. And while she sat it furious thought, the air was rocked by a fiery blast of noise and earth-shaking quake. … The world of the Everfree Forest screamed in Verdance’s very soul as fire burnt, sound detonated, and raw force crushed out of existence a multitude of Life energies. The magic’s explosive shock wave reached The Origin, rattling it’s entire frame and ringing against its ancient but superior metal. Verdance drowned away his senses in the intricacies of Life’s patterns, focusing all of his strength into raw magical output. Standing at The Origin’s helm, the horn clasp descended and encased his horn in cold metal, drawing out the necessary magical power to engage the ship’s functions. … The floor of wood beneath Aurora’s hooves rumbled in a familiar, almost soothing, flow. She was where she belonged, and everypony would soon know as much: brought into that same world or slain like the uninspired bags of flesh they were. With as many blast holes as peppered the House of a Thousand Fangs, Aurora was privy to the crushing and cracking of the trees outside as her ship scraped the top of the forest in an effort to right itself, gain altitude, and also increase it’s speed. Once the sharp blasting of broken tree limbs ceased to intrude upon her hearing, Aurora narrowed her eyes and grimaced in concentration; the force of her command to her Devices carried on urgency and delivered with authority. Beside her, the unprepared forms of Thunderlane and Sparkler tumbled to the ground as the thrust Devices completely opened their power reserves, propelling the vessel toward Pegasus Cruise Speed. … At the roaring boom that echoed across the camp, nearly everypony save the guards flinched and ran for the nearest form of cover they could find. Chaos was unleashed: ponies and Changelings rushing to stay with friends and loved ones while the more stoic guards hollered and yelled above the ear-splitting growl, attempting to organize their ranks. And as Twilight’s friends huddled together to avoid being separated, Twilight herself could only stare horrified at the Everfree Forest. She witnessed the impossible. It’s helm peaked the bending and whipping trees first, but the rest of the massive ship soon followed, crushing and burning the surrounding crowns with its girth and magic-produced flames. Like a predatory animal it loomed just over the trees, rotating in place until it faced due west. And it was gone with naught but a trail of smoke… and a vicious, metalic pursuer. … “She is trying to reach Pegasus Cruise Speed!” Verdance nearly yelled as he lifted The Origin from within the Everfree copse and did away with its cloaking field. “You know full well The Origin cannot reach the ley lines,” Sanctia scolded. “If you do not catch her now, we will never find her.” “Not never, but I will not wait several hundred more years for a full Sentinel,” Verdance growled, redirecting the thrust from levitation to acceleration. The Origin whined as Verdance gave it no pause to gradually pick up speed, instead incessantly pushing the ship to fly faster. “I am going to have to shoot her down,” Verdance said when he ceased to satisfactorily close the gap between the two airborne vessels. “Alert the others. I am projecting it will crash outside Equestrian borders, and if we do not take control of the matter personally, there will be a free-for-all among the other nations.” “Already ahead of you,” Sanctia replied, her voice steeled in the urgency of the situation. “Verdance I—” “NO! DAMMIT!” he screamed, Aurora’s vessel ascending at an increasingly sharp angle and with its flames turned from harsh orange to brilliant blue and trailing lighter blue streaks of magic. Aurora Streak was gone, and with her, all hopes of a firm resolution.